When Belasco first heard of “The Secret,”—which, written in French by Henri Bernstein, was originally produced, in March, 1913, at the Théâtre Bouffes-Parisiens, in Paris, with Mme. Simone (Mme. Simone Le Bargy) in the principal part,—Charles Frohman had just relinquished the right of producing it in America. He was so much impressed by the published accounts of the plot and of the performance that he went to Paris (sailing, June 18, 1913, on the Campania, via Fishguard) to see it, and there, after witnessing several representations of the drama, he personally arranged with its author for an American production. “Bernstein,” he writes, “wanted me to have Mme. Simone act Gabrielle in America; but, although she is a fine actress and gave a good performance, she did not, in my opinion, make the part credible. I could see nobody for it but little Miss Starr—and Bernstein waived his wishes and left everything to me. I knew from the first that it was impossible to make money with the piece in America; but I was determined to do it, and I did; and I am content, though it cost me $57,000 in order to show the American public a perfect piece of modern play writing and (as I think) acting.”
The qualities in Bernstein’s “The Secret” which won Belasco’s profound admiration are its technical constructive deftness and its cumulative theatrical effectiveness. While repellent in subject, it is, for stage purposes, extraordinarily well made. The principal character in it is Gabrielle Jannelot, a wife, young, accomplished, beautiful, admired, and loved,—apparently a paragon of feminine excellence; in fact, a personification of malignant jealousy and malicious envy. This charming female, blessed with everything that should make her contented, cannot endure the sight of the happiness of others and, while cloaking her wickedness with an assumption of generosity, gentleness, and goodness which for years completely deceives her husband and her
Photograph by the Misses Selby. Author’s Collection.
BELASCO, ABOUT 1914
friends, she industriously spreads misery all about her. She has contrived to establish bitter estrangement between her devoted husband and a dearly loved and loving sister; and, ascertaining that another sister-in-law, Henriette Durand,—who is her closest friend and who has confided in her,—is beloved by a high-principled, jealous young man, Denis Le Guern, she schemes to wreck their prospective happiness. The fair Henriette (whose amorous receptivity appears to be comprehensive) has secretly been the mistress of a profligate man of fashion, named Charlie Ponta-Tulli, to whom she would have been wedded had not Gabrielle surreptitiously suppressed missives passing between them and thus caused their intrigue to be ended. Aware of Guern’s jealous disposition and strong preference for early vegetables, Gabrielle counsels Henriette, when he shall formally propose marriage to her, to make a full confession to him of her relation to Ponta-Tulli,—being confident that Guern will then withdraw his proposal. This advice Henriette promises to act upon; but, through fear, she fails to do so, and presently she and Guern are wedded and for a while dwell in bliss. Gabrielle, unable to endure the spectacle of their felicity, plans to destroy it by contriving to have all the persons implicated in the action assembled as guests in a country residence, thus bringing the new-wedded couple into close contact with the ardent though alienated Ponta-Tulli. There the former lover protests to the distressed Henriette his unchangeable passion, and there they are surprised together by the suspicious Guern in the moment when Tulli is demanding her reasons for having broken with him. A violent wrangle ensues, during which Gabrielle, under pretence of attempting reconciliation, neatly manages to make known the former illicit relation of Tulli and Henriette to the latter’s husband. In the passages of bitter recrimination which follow Tulli at last establishes the fact that he had not wilfully abandoned the charming Henriette, and then (with remarkable dramatic dexterity) the spiteful treachery of Gabrielle is little by little elicited and “the secret” of that vicious and contemptible little mischief-maker is finally revealed when she is forced to confess to her wretched husband all her years of wicked intrigue and perverse malice. There, dramatically, the play ends,—where so much of human experience ends, in heartbroken misery and despair. A superfluous “tag” is, however, provided in which Jannelot first induces Guern to forgive Henriette and then himself casts the mantle of indulgence over the sins of Gabrielle—the fervid Ponta-Tulli being left to recede into the dim perspective of Paris, there to comfort himself as best he may.
The performance of this painful play was, in the main, excellent, Miss Marguerite Leslie acting the errant Henriette with deep and sympathetic feeling, and Miss Starr, as Gabrielle, giving perhaps the most completely finished and artistic performance of her career,—because definite and intelligible in ideal, sustained, fluent, precise in expression, and entirely plausible in effect. Mr. Frank Reicher appeared as the excitable and jealous Guern and provided a significant exhibition of the radically artificial, insincere, and finical method so common to the Continental European Stage and so much admired and commended in America for the reason, apparently, that it is European.—“The Secret” was exquisitely set upon the stage, in scenery designed by Ernest Gros, and was presented by Belasco with the following cast:
| Constant Jannelot | Basil Gill. |
| Charlie Ponta-Tutti | Robert Warwick. |
| Denis Le Guern | Frank Reicher. |
| Joseph | John P. Brawn. |
| Gabrielle Jannelot | Frances Starr. |
| Henriette Durand | Marguerite Leslie. |
| Clotilde DeSavageat | Harriet Otis Dellenbaugh. |
| Marie | Beatrice Reinhardt. |